The Concept of Thought and Where it May Lead
by Color With Marker
Summary: Helen and Vision get a chance to talk and delve into topics that are hard for him to deal with.


Helen didn't get many chances to see the Vision after his creation. Once she relocated herself and her team to the new Avengers HQ, she found herself too busy to sit for more than two seconds. Her recreation of tissue and cells was needed desperately. She had her own team of engineers to help her build three more. At least one was used every day. Vision was one of the very few who never needed to grace her labs with a chunk of skin missing. Then again, he didn't have skin, and she would never dare ask for any vibranium, now knowing how it was obtained and the many legal issues that came with it. His ability to phase through objects helped too.

And she saw just how busy the Avengers were. The four new ones, especially Wanda, were in constant training to be up to the Avengers and SHIELD's standards. They would have escape drills at any given moment (Helen was given a soundproof room after the third one that happened at four in the morning), get orders for missions at the drop of a hat, and when it came to leadership and agreements, arguments always broke out. Helen once witnessed a fight between Steve and Natasha over whether Wanda was prepared for more technical battles – Steve won, and Natasha sat silently staring at the wall for an hour without budging, scaring a few of the younger geneticists. They had as much free time as she did, and she rarely left the building. She didn't have the _time_ to leave the building.

Seven months after her transfer, Vision phased through the door to her office without warning, causing her to jump and drop her pen.

"I apologize for startling you. Wanda has been hurt, and after the surgeons are finished with her, they will need you to help 'patch the wound'," he said.

Helen nodded. Vision had never come to her when a teammate was injured in battle. It was either Steve barging in with whomever it was in his arms, or Sam or Natasha knocking and warning her about twenty seconds before the barging in. Then again, it was never Wanda who was hurt.

She motioned at the chair. "Sit. Take a moment to relax," she said.

Vision nodded stiffly, and sat in the chair, though his face made it clear he wasn't comfortable with sitting. Or the idea of it. "I sleep hovering seven and three-fourths inches above the floor in whichever room I choose," he explained. "Using solid objects, like silverware or furniture… it's still foreign to me."

Helen nodded. She minimized her Excel spreadsheets. She can work on her employee raise proposals for Maria later. This was a rare moment that she was going to take on fully. "Can you eat?" she asked Vision.

He shook his head. "I believe I lack a proper digestive system. I don't believe I have any organs. Not even natural skin. Though you should know. You created me," he replied. Helen wondered if he was holding back a smile. Maybe he wasn't sure if smiling was appropriate or an option.

"You have a power core similar to a heart in the center of your chest, vibranium pieces shaped like bones, and a motor in your head like a brain that helps you control your eyes and your… abilities, so to speak. Those were, however, Ultron's decisions that I put together into one cohesive form. It's not exactly human, but you can call your body whatever you want."

"Ah. I see." Vision looked at the knick knacks on Helen's desk, and toyed with his cape. Helen watched him do so. Vision looked up and asked, "What is the part of me that controls my emotions?"

"Your emotions?" Helen asked back.

"Yes, those. I know Ultron could only feel anger and rage, but I… emotions are the hardest concept for me to grasp." His fist clenched, then unclenched. "I am knowledgeable about everything there is to know, from when I was JARVIS, but I never knew how to feel about the things I know, the things I am still learning, the things I see..."

Helen leaned back in her chair. "What is making you feel the need to express emotion?"

"Many things. When Mister – I mean, Tony Stark, crosses my mind, what I know tells me I should miss him. When my teammates are hurt in battle, I cannot express anguish or shock. And Wanda…"

He wandered off at the end of his thoughts too often. It worried Helen. She knew it was distress and self-doubt, but she wasn't sure if he was aware or if he was just speaking his thoughts aloud and not feeling anything toward them. "What about Wanda?" she asked, not wanting to prod too hard into his personal turmoil.

"She is a metaphorical firecracker. Not too long after the battle in Sokovia, she came to me and screamed at me. She screamed at me saying she hated me for not leaving her in that bus to disintegrate like the country had seconds after I picked her up from it. And she started to hit me. Many times, if someone tries to strike me, I let them phase through, and they never land a blow. But I let her hit me. I let her hit me seventeen times, and let her cry against my chest.

"Now, now that we know each other better, and now that she has warmed up to me, I see her look at me differently. She waves to me in the halls. She requests me as a sparring and field partner, no matter the mission, though she is preferred with Sam Wilson by Captain Roger's orders. She comes to find me whenever she has troubled dreams or thoughts, and just talks to me about them. She insists that I lack proper manners, such as using doors, and has been teaching me to behave more appropriately.

"She once kissed me. She told me she was just testing some waters between us. It felt like something had shocked my lips, but I could not feel the want to press anything further between us. I know all about relationships, in every shape and form, and I have learned much about love and sex from being an entity in the mansion in Malibu, the Avengers Tower, and as part of each Iron Man suit up until the Mark forty-four. Everything tells me things must go much further than I feel I should go. That kiss… it was fine. Nice, even. But if she wants to take things further, I'm not sure I can take things further than that."

Helen was taken aback. She hadn't expected everything to just come pouring out of him like that. He looked confused beyond belief at himself and his emotions – or lack thereof. He was looking at Helen as if she had all of the answers waiting for him. She wished she did. This was something out of her range. Love wasn't new to her, but helping someone through love was.

"I lack a real parent," Vision continued. His eyes were wide. He looked hopelessly lost with himself. "Many people turn to their parents in times of need and guidance. Percentage-wise of those who helped to create me, you have given the most to me. That would make you, to me, my mother. Is that alright with you?"

"Is that – I mean – of course it is," Helen said. Vision was full of surprises, in these few minutes they were spending together. "As long as you're comfortable with it as well."

"Yes, I am. I don't know what I should call you."

"Still, whatever you're comfortable with."

"…Do you know what this means, then, Mother?"

Helen sat forward, leaning her forearms on her desk. She drummed the fingers on her left hand against the wooden surface. "You care about Wanda. You want to please her. You do what you think is best for her. In her darkest moments, you make yourself available to her, and she takes comfort in having someone there for her," she said. She licked her lips and asked, "If this was something happening between, say, Tony and Pepper, what would you call it?"

"They call it love."

"That's what I would say about you and Wanda, too."

Vision nodded, his brows furrowed, his eyes staring at Helen's drumming fingers. "And if Wanda asks for something I cannot find myself to give to her? The love between those two, it was quite intimate. Sexual. That I cannot bring myself to do."

"If you can't have a relationship that doesn't depend on sex, then she isn't the right person for you. But you're worrying yourself. I don't believe you think Wanda is really like that."

"You're correct." Vision stood up. "I should check on Wanda's status. Maybe give you an estimated time for her arrival in your lab."

"I'll prepare my staff in time for her," Helen replied with a smile.

"Thank you." Vision turned for the door, paused, and turned back. "Thank you for your time, Mother. It has been very enlightening, and I hope we can do this again sometime. Maybe I can introduce you to Wanda when she doesn't have fragments of shotgun shells resting in her shoulder."

Helen's smile deepened. "I would love to meet her. Just tell me the time and place, and I'll make sure to be there."


End file.
